Agora
by May a Chance
Summary: Let's be honest. We all know that Thomas was raised in isolation by WICKED. Let's be honest once again. He would not be the social butterfly we know. Faint, pre-slash.


**Disclaimer: I do not own these amazing franchise know as the Maze Runner Trilogy. All rights go to James Dashner, the author of the Maze Runner and his publishing company whom he probably sold the rights to. This story is written purely for my entertainment with nothing to do with profit or recognition. "I write what I want to write, I write what amuses me, it's totally for myself."- J.K. Rowling.**

**I just reread the Maze Runner Files multiple times and discovered the enviornment that Thomas was raised in. Considering that enviornment, here is how he comes to the Glade. That enviornment is one where he knows three people of his age and had probably never been in groups larger than five before. Maybe not even seen groups that large before, or just more people than that spread out over a large area. I don't know about you, but if that was how I had lived, I probably wouldn't have any socials skills and would be scared of groups of people.**

**This is also AU, but most of it is only height or appearance since I don't know if Gally has black hair or blond hair. Thomas is more like 5'5 so pretty much everyone is taller than him, save for Chuck. Hey, not everyone can be tall, though successive generations are getting taller on average, something that is believed to be caused by better nutrition. Each your veggies, kids! And protiens, carbs and all that other good stuff! I have no idea what I'm talking about.**

**It's also slight personality stuff since I can't write every character perfectly. And, of course, since Thomas has agoraphobia in this, he is very different and even goes by Tommy.**

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><p>He began his new life fallen over, surrounded by cold darkness and stale, dusty air.<p>

The harsh clanks of chains being pulled and metal grinding against metal filled the space he was enclosed in. It wasn't that he particularly minded, but he did was to know what was happening. He scrambled back on all fours, moving quickly like a spider until his back pressed against the wall. It felt like it was made from a metal grid, just like the ground beneath his hands and feet. He sank, terrified, to the floor and scooted along the metal wall until he reached a corner, hoping that his eyes would soon asjust to the darkness. His knees were pulled tight against his chest. The room rocked around him, jerking wildly as it began to be pulled upwards. His heart lurched with fear as the room continued to rock.

Harsh sounds of chains and pulleys, like the workings of a long-since forgotten mine or factory, echoed chaotically through the room, bouncing off the grid walls with a hollow and tinny whisper that burnt his ears. The lightless elevator swayed back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, turning the boy's stomach sour with a sense of nausea. A smell akin to burnt oil invaded his nostrils, something that only made him feel worse. He wanted to cry or something, yet no tears came to his eyes. All that he could do was to sit out the rocking and wait for something to happen.

And hope that it was not for the worse.

_Tommy,_ his mind whispered to himself. _They call me Tommy._ That was all he could remember. Not where he came from or who he was, just five simple letters that were all he had to cling to in the rough elevator ride. A rush of feelings cascaded down on newly proclaimed Tommy, so many he almost couldn't compute the strange sensation of feeling so much at one time.

Tommy's mind functioned without even a single flaw, making futile attempts at calculating his surroundings and predicament. The small analysis he got was not good: he was stuck in a metal room. No way out. He was moving.

His mind was filled with thoughts, facts and imagines, yet not a single one of them was a memory. Details of the world flooded through him like the waters of a tsunami flooding through a coastal city; a raging whirpool of details. He pictured snow covered trees with face-less children dashing around them with laughter. The thought of eating a hamburger was fantasic and Tommy could picture a halfmoon casting a pale glow across a grassy meadow. The sensation of water surrounded him as he thought of swimming in a lake. The warmth of the sun beating down on him.

Yet through all that he couldn't remember a thing of himself. Not who he was, how he'd gotten to the dark life nor who his parents were, though he did hope they worried for him. Tommy couldn't even remember his own last name. He pondered the idea of his own last name for a minute. He like the sound of Tommy Hunter. Then it occurred to Tommy that Tommy probably wasn't even his name, rather a nickname given to him by friends too lazy to say his full name. Then Tommy came upon the idea that he didn't know if he had friends. Had his friends really been his friends? Tommy simply didn't know.

Nameless, faceless people flashed across his vision, coming only one at a time, fading away before the next would appear. Their faces were haunted smears of skin colours, randing from ghostly pale to the dark colour of dark coffee. He couldn't connect a name with any of the faces, nor recall having seen or spoken to any of them. As a matter of fact, Tommy couldn't remember having ever spoken to a_nyone_, nor having used his voice nor even what his voice sounded like!

The room continued its chaotic and terrible ascent, rising slowly to the surface as it swayed. Tommy grew immune to the ceaseless rattling of the chains that continued to pull him higher up. Long seconds stretched to too-long minutes, those stretching into hours. As much as Tommy thought he had been moving for quite some time, it was impossible for him to be sure in the stale darkness. No, he was smarter than that. Going by his instincts alone, Tommy knew that he had been moving for roughly a half hour, even if it felt like so much longer. At that relevation, his fear whisked off like a large swarm of gnats in the cool wind, replaced by the intense feeling of curiosity. It did not make sense that he was curious of all things, yet he was. Tommy wanted to know what was happening. It was only what felt natural.

With a long groan and dull clonk, the rising room halted in its tracks; the sudden change jolted Tommy from his curled up position, sprawling him on the hard, grid floor. He spat out a mouthfull of dust as he rose to his feat. All around him there was not a single noise, just the icy cold silence of a room that felt abandoned like an old ghost city of the Wild West. It was eery.

One minute flew by. Then a second followed it. Tommy glanced every direction into the cold darkness, seeing nothing but the cold darkness. He felt along the walls once again, searching for a way out. There was nothing he could find, only the cool grid of metal that contained him to this small space as thoguh he were a caged animal. He let out a groan of frustration, the sound echoing throug hthe room like the haunted moan of the dead. It faded and silence returned. It wasn't that Tommy minded the silence, rather that he quite liked it, but he did want to get out of the small room.

He screamed upwards, calling for help and felt around for anything that might help him get out. There was nothing.

He back into the corner once again, trying to hide from his own destiny. A shiver raced through him as the fear spiralled over him once again, clouding his senses. A worrying shudder developed in his chest as if his heart wanted to escape from his own body, leaving Tommy there to die, heartless. "_Someone!_" He screeched outloud. "_Help me, please!_" Each word ripped his throat raw like rope sliding quickly through one's fingers.

As if in answer to his cries, a loud clank rang out from above him as Tommy sucked in a started and confused breath, gazing up at what must have been the ceiling of the room. A thin, straight line of light appeared above him, ever expanding and casting a warm glow across the space he was enclosed in. Worse, a sound went along with the expanding light. A ferocious grating sound of metal against metal recelaed double sliding doors being forced open with a terrible noise. The light stabbed at his eyes, unvoluntarily causing a whimper to escape from him. Tommy lifted an arm to sheild his eyes.

Above him, there were voices and fear squeezed his chest. A few beads of sweat began to pop up on his forehead. The world spun around him.

There were too many voiced.

"Look at that shank."

"How old is he?"

"Looks like a klunk in a T-shirt."

"You're the klunk, shuck-face."

"Dude, it smells like f_eet_ down there!"

"Hope you enjoyed the one-way trip, Greenie."

"Ain't no ticket back, bro."

As a wave of confusion hit him, Tommy's lungs stopped working as his heart pounded a chaotic dance, once again trying to escape. He froze, wanting to move yet unable to through the fear that clung to his mind. The voices were odd, echo-tinged. Some of the words were completely foriegn to him, while others felt familiar. He willed his eyes to adjust as best as he could considering there was no oxegyn in his lungs. At first, all he could see was shadows, just trees, he tried to assure himself, but as his eyes further adjust, he could make out the shapes of bodies. There were at least fifteen pressed in close to his small haven. They were people, bent over the hole in the ceiling, looking down at him and pointing.

Like a camera lense sharpening into focuse, he could see the faces. A rush of oxegyn entered his oxegyn starved body. They were all boys, a few younger than Tommy felt he was, but most older. Tommy didn't know what he had expected, but a _large _group of boys certainly hadn't been on his list of possibilities. They were just teenagers, kids, just like him. Yet it didn't calm his racing heart. If anything, it only made his heart race faster. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead as the world began to spin chaotically around him. A whimper escaped from his tight throat.

There were simply too many.

Gathering all the strength he had, Tommy ignored the rope that he been lowered for him. He pulled himself up and over the lip of the ceiling with strength he hadn't known he possessed. Scrambling to get away from the crowd of boys that was larger than he had expected, at least fifty of them, probably much more, he shoved away the hands that reached out to grab him, and, regaining his footing, began to run like he couldn't remember running, which, of course, he couldn't.

Tommy surveyed his surroundings as he broke away from the group of boys- _too many_. He was in a large, grass area surrounded by towering stone walls covered in ivy. In one corner, there was a large building that was probably meant to be a house. In yet another corner was another building, this one not wood, rather metal. There was a forest in the final corner that had something in it. Yet inbetween each corner was something that Tommy did very much like. There were immense gaps in the walls. That was where he needed to go. So Tommy ran, no sprinted, towards the nearest one.

The flock of boys was chasing after him, he could feel it, though he didn't look back. He had to get there, he just had to. The flock chasing him was spreading out. Tommy threw a quick glance over his shoulder and realized that two boys in particular were gaining on him. The first was a very tall blond boy with a square jaw who was limping as he ran. The second was an almost-as-tall boy with black hair. Tommy looked forwards once again, trying to increase his speed. So close, almost there...

Something or someone crashed into him from behind, wrestling Tommy to the ground. Tommy struggled against them, flipping onto his back as the blond boy, the one with the limp, struggled to press Tommy's shoulders down.

"Slim it, shank," he ordered in a strange accent. "We're not bloody going to kill you, so chill."

Tommy continued to struggled against him. He would not be captured! These people would kill him if they got a chance. There were just too many. Crowds and crowds of them, more than Tommy could stand to be around. The world spun around him once again as he trembled.

"Ah, bloody to this," the blond grumbled as he beagn to use all of his body weight to try and press Tommy to the ground. The blond's knees pressed down on Tommy's shoulders and even then he refused to give up, clawing at the boys face with his hands. The blond tried to grab at Tommy's hands, clumsily missing several times until he did catch Tommy's left arm.

"Get away!" Tommy rasped out, surprised that he was still able to speak. One of his arms had been caught by the blond boy, who was speaking.

"Slim it, shank. We only want to help. Just stop clawing at me and I can let you up! Will you bloody calm down already?!" Annoyance edged the blond's voice, though he seemed calm otherwise. "Easy now, shank. Just calm down. We're all friends here! No one's hurting nobody, not one." Tommy wasn't listening, though. He was still struggled to try and pull himself away from the blond. With his one free arm, his right, Tommy swung at the boy, catching his jaw square on. The blond's head snapped away from him. "Ah! Hey! That's my bloody face! Gally! Get your shucking butt over here and bloody give me a hand! He's stronger than you expect!"

The black-haired boy, evidently Gally, took Tommy's captured arm from the blond as he clutched his jaw. Gally grabbed Tommy's other arm, pressing both into the grass above his head. Gally was strong, strong enough to hold Tommy's arms down as he struggled to fight away from the two boys taller than he.

The blond had removed his knees from Tommy's shoulders, only pressing down on them with his hands to keep Tommy from standing. "Let's bring him to the bloody Slammer, Gally. Thanks, mate." Together, one boy taking each of his arms, the two boys pulled Tommy to his feet, ignoring his struggled to get away from them. "Calm down," the blond continued to try and sooth Tommy as he struggled against them. The blond had taken Tommy's right arm and had a firm grip on both his wrist and shoulder. Gally had done the same, having a strong grip on both places, too. Only then did he realize that the rest of the flock of boys was quickly approaching.

Tommy froze with fear, though he was digging his heels into the grass and beginning to struggle even harder against the two boys who were trying to make him come closer to the large group. There were just too many! People, people, people! It seemed like there were hundreds of people approaching, even if the logical side of Tommy told him that it was only fifty or so.

The blond boy frowned in confusion. He seemed to have noticed Tommy's sudden and stubborn refusal. "Alright there, Greenie?"

Still frozen in place, Tommy slowly shook his head. His heart pounded the chaotic dance that had become its normal thing to do. The flock of boys was getting closer, closer, so much closer. Soon they would be crowding in around him. Tommy would have no space to breathe! _No, no, no!_ His mind screamed. _Get away from me! Go! Please, please go._ His thoughts turned to a desperate whimper as the blond frowned at him in confusion.

"Hey shanks? Can you all please go? I want to see something. And no, not you, Gally." The boy at the head of the flock (or pack) frowned in confusion but shrugged.

"You heard Newt! Back to work, everybody! Quit the chatter or the next break'll be cut in half!" This boy was around the same height as Gally with dark coloured skin and pitch black hair. The pack (or flock) dispersed, grumbles and whispers coming from all edges of the dispersing pack. When they were pressed together in a large group, they were a very intimidating group, but when spread out, something made them even more intimidating to Tommy. It was as though he knew where they all were when they grouped, yet didn't when they weren't which was true.

Slowly, very slowly, Tommy allowed himself to relax. He didn't let his guard down or allow him to be tugged along any easier, but he did feel his heart begin to beat at a more regular pattern and his breaths come easier. Only then did he realize that the blond, Newt, was speaking to him in the strange accent that Tommy simply couldn't place, not even in the strange details of what he knew of the world. It was just a strange lilt that he had never heard before, not even before he had lost his memory.

"I think we should take him to the Med-jacks instead, Gally. No one's ever reacted like that before and I think we'd all like to know what just happened. Hey, Greenie? Greenie? What happened back there? Why'd ya bloody freak out?" Tommy's gaze was unfocused as he tried to be able to focus on the towering blond boy to his right. "Greenie, you need to start talking sometime. I'm guessing you want to avoid those bloody shucks scrutiny, right? Then you need to start talking." Newt sighed softly as he tugged Tommy onwards. "They're just curious."

His own words feeling foreign even to him, Tommy spoke with a shudder racing through his spine. "Too. Many. _People_."

Gally looked constepated as he tried not to laugh.

"Too many people?" He choked out in amazement. "This is the best thing I've heard since the Siggy Song! That is so funny! I can't beli-"

"Gally!" Newt snapped in irritation. "I asked for someone to help me with the Greenie, not laugh over what they say! If you can't be helpful, then go off and build some bloody thing!" Gally didn't respond. "Well!?" Newt demanded. "Go off and build some bloody thing!"

Seemingly reluctantly, Gally let go of Tommy's left arm and stormed off, not looking very happy.

"Hey," Newt said softly as Gally left, squezing Tommy's shoulder reassuringly. "Don't bother with him. He's just a grumpy shuck-face all the time. Nothin' to do with you or anyone else. Now come on, let's get you to the Med-jacks. There's only two of them and no one else is in there but Ben, and you won't see him," Newt continued calmly. "Name's Newt, Greenie. What's yours?"

"Tommy," said boy whispered softly, staring pitifully at the grass beneath his feet as they trudged along towards one of the corners. "My name is Tommy." Newt wrapped an arm around the shorter boy's shoulders, pulling Tommy against his chest as they walked towards the delipidated farm-house like wooden building.

"Welcome to the Glade, Tommy. Welcome home."

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><p><strong>Well that was an interesting story to write. In this story, Thomas has agoraphobia, the form that is fear of crowds of people, not open space. This is because Thomas pretty much lived in an isolation ward for his whole life, sine he was five, and probably didn't have much human contact before that, either. This all causes for him to be anxious around groups of people more than seven or eight. He feels that he has no control over the situation and that he'll mess up badly. This all causes minor panic attacks invlvoing dizziness, nausea, sweating, trembling and trying to get away from the groups of people.<strong>

**There will be no continuation, expansion or companion fics to this one-shot.**

**If you honestly must know, Thomas becomes a Runner and helps the Gladers find a way out of the Maze, only really trusting Newt and the had some trouble with how many people there were in the Scorch, especially when he was kidnapped by the girls, but got along well with Aris, who, having been raised in the same enviornment, had similar social issues. Teresa was not his friends and Thomas is somewhat scared of her since she can invade his headspace which he doesn't isolation room for 26 days did nothing against him since he pretty much grew up in that same place. It would have been much more effective to put him in a room with ten other people. In the Death Cure, Thomas escaapes from WICKED, refusing to get his memories back, along with Minho and Newt who he has grown closer to over the Trials, especially since Clint's death in the together, they discover that the Flare is a form of rabies that was selectively bred in labs to become air born and especially dangerous. Since there is only one known way to treat rabies, and that wouldn't work for the Flare, they reach a deadend until they discover that there is a freaking vaccine for rabies that works before rabies shows the first symptoms. Only this is the future, so the vaccine is much better than it is today. If anyone other than them were smart enoguh to realize all of this, they would learn that the vaccine would work until the sick were past gone. So they saved Newt and told WICKED about their cure that saved people from the Flare and they basically saved the lived in Paradise with the other Gladers where Thomas got over his agoraphobia and they all lived happily ever after.**


End file.
